


Book of Desire

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling, The Sandman
Genre: Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Surprise main character, sentient books are evil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-29
Updated: 2005-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some books are hidden for a reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Book of Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ community "darkones."

**I was wondering when you would come for me,** the book crooned. The boy wasn't sure how a book could croon, but there it was. He had been doing research for an Advanced Herbology project, and Professor Sprout had written him a pass to the Restricted Section. Madam Pince had long since stopped asking him for a pass, and didn't seem to realize that his current pass had expired.

He had seen the book on his first day of digging about for Herbology books. He had felt power emanate from it, and had known better than to touch it. The books in the back of the Restricted Section were the dangerous ones, and Professor Sprout had warned him that some of the books had belonged to the Endless, to Gods and Goddesses long dead. Some books were known to drive men mad. She trusted him, trusted his judgment, and knew he was a good and trustworthy student. He knew better than to touch a strange book with no writing on its cover, nothing but a faded gilt heart. There was a hidden power here, something dark and sinister, something that set the fine hairs at the back of his neck on edge.

But there was something drawing him closer...

**You want something,** the book whispered to his mind. **You want me to help you get it.**

"I don't want anything," the boy mumbled, knowing he was lying and knowing it was inherently odd to be talking to a book.

**Of course you want something. You want something, otherwise you never would have seen me, never would have wanted to touch me and pick me up. You _want_ and I can help you.**

"What are you talking about?"

**Pick me up, child,** the book commanded.

He did so. The book was bound in black leather, and the gold foil on the cover was mostly worn away. He opened the front cover and saw the gilt lettering.

The Book of Desire.

**What is it you want? Power? Fame?**

The boy's jaw tightened. "No. I've seen what that's like, and I don't want it."

**There's a girl,** the book guessed. It could feel the boy's heart clench tightly, painfully. He had previously belonged to the book's sister, Despair. But now the boy was beginning to pass into its realm, and Desire had no intentions of letting him go.

"N-no. Not really. Not like that."

**Her eyes are on another, but they could fall to you. I can help you, if you let me.**

"Why?" the boy asked, voice twisting painfully. "Why would you help me? I'm not important. I'm everyone's backup, I'm the one they come to when there's no one else. Why help _me?"_

_Because your wanting is thick and beautiful, and your heart now belongs to me,_ Desire thought.

The Book was painfully silent, and the boy was beginning to get nervous. _Could_ he have everything he ever wanted? _Could_ he become someone more important than he was? Could he finally be bold and courageous and someone worthy of love?

"I can't... I can't make her unhappy. And she doesn't want me, she'd be unhappy with me."

**I can _make_ her want you. I can make her want anything.**

The boy was horrified. "No! It wouldn't be real! She wouldn't love me on her own, and I don't want it to be fake." His voice dropped to a tortured whisper. "I just want her to need me as much as I need her."

**Very well. But wanting something comes with a price, child. Are you willing to pay it? I could ask for anything, anything at all. I could take your mind, I could make you cut out her heart and give it to me for my supper. Are you prepared to do what I tell you to do? Are you ready for the great things I will have you do? Are you _sure?_**

The boy's face tightened with anxiety, then smoothed. He had made his decision. "Yes. I'm tired of being a nobody. I want to be somebody to someone. I want _her."_

**Then take a few of my pages, and press them to your heart.**

The boy took a deep breath, then looked down at the book. He couldn't even lift the pages from book, couldn't see what was written in it. He knew the spines of books in the Restricted Section were charmed so that they could never be stolen. But that was all right. He didn't need the cover, didn't need the spine. He just needed the pages, after all. The book would give him whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, and all he needed were the pages.

Neville Longbottom ripped them all out, every page, and pressed them all to his chest. He ignored the screaming of the book, the rattling chains of the other books in the Restricted Section. The rush of power in the room was tangible, tasting like old crumbling paper and faded ink. The power was coming into him, filling him, lifting him up off of his feet. Neville could feel the power flow through him, deep and dark and hidden, something separate from his stuttering and failing self. This was the power of the Endless, of Desire. This was his, his, only his, nothing borrowed or left over or second best. He would make his own destiny, not ride on the coattails of another. He would become great, he would become someone talked about, he would be the one everyone wanted to talk about. He _could._

He had the Book of Desire, and now Desire owned him completely.


End file.
